


Little Spark

by DecalinetheSpaceCat



Series: Raising a Purple Rascal [1]
Category: Spyro, Spyro the Dragon (Video Games)
Genre: Accidental Bonding, Artisans, Beast Makers, Bonding, Brotherly Bonding, Dragonflies, Dragonfly, Dragons, Dream Weavers, Family Bonding, Fear of Death, Five Realms, Fluff and Angst, Fluffy Ending, Gen, Hatchlings, Healing, Magic Crafters, Matter of Life and Death, Near Death, Parent-Child Relationship, Peace keepers, Pre-Canon, Presumed Dead, Reignited, Soul Bond, Spyro - Freeform, Trilogy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-24 10:27:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18569545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DecalinetheSpaceCat/pseuds/DecalinetheSpaceCat
Summary: Pre 1st game. Based on Reignited. One-shot.The dragons of the five realms are in deep turmoil.Nothing but misfortune has followed them since they settled in their new home, and the attempts to continue and build a new generation have been met with difficulties and failure.And now that the last hatchling alive is stricken with a sickness that, if left untreated, will take him by morning, the leaders of the five dragon tribes take desperate measures to insure his survival. Unknown to them, one stray dragonfly that has traveled far from his home stumbles upon the dying infant, leading to the formation of something grander than either of them, and a bond that will save more than just one life.





	Little Spark

**Author's Note:**

> Guess which game I've been playing?
> 
> Forgive the text talk, but...OMG. I love Reignited! I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE, LOVE, LOVE, LOOOOOOOVE IT! I adore everything about it! All the renditions of the games, all the characters, Tom Kenny's voice work, and Spyro is nothing short of one of the CUTEST freaking characters not just in video games, but EVER!
> 
> Though what really impressed me the most would have to be the work the developers went through for the dragons of Spyro 1. Out of the three, the first game is my least favorite (I was legitimately shocked when I found out you can't hover in that game, I already knew about Spyro's water 'allergy'), that far from means I think low of it. Far from it. And one of those factors is just how diverse and detailed each and every dragon is in that game. They really went all out on it, with their appearances, their personalities, even the ones that just thank you for releasing them have something to them. God, such dedication! I adore each and every person on the development team!
> 
> And, of course, it lead to this.
> 
> At first, I initially wanted to try my hand at some one-shots, basically detailing the life of the plucky little dragon and his interactions with the larger, bigger specimens of his species, ranging from driving them nuts to familial bonding, etc. But then I had this idea, and decided that it'd be best to experiment with first.
> 
> That said, if this garners enough attention and people do like this, I definitely will consider and go through with some one-shots.
> 
> Another note, 
> 
> Baby Dragon=Baby Spyro
> 
> Dragonfly=Sparx
> 
> Though given how young both of them are (even if dragonflies are considered 'adults' once they grow out of the nymph phase), I'd imagine none of them have names as of yet. Plus, given the situation with Spyro, naming the little guy would probably escape everyone's minds as he was sort of, you know, dying? Don't worry though, I'm not that cruel to kill babies...yet.
> 
> In all seriousness, if anyone's confused about why I made it so the dragonflies come from the Beast Makers' swamp, it has to do with the actual life cycle of dragonflies. True, it's never stated in the universe or lore of the first trilogy (or even Enter the Dragonfly for that matter), but I decided to add a touch of real world life cycles into the story. Plus, even though it's never stated, the Dragons' transition from the Forgotten Realms of the 3rd game to the five realms of the Dragon World isn't really explained either, yet given that there are only 80 of them, I pondered whether or not there were more. And if so, where did they all go? Or more importantly, why were there so few?
> 
> Here's hoping you enjoy!

**Spyro and co. © of Activision (formerly Insomniac)**

"How is it going?"

Brushing back the banner of the small dwelling was a bipedal, reptilian beast of considerable size, and an equally considerably large, boisterous voice to complement it. Yet now, in the dead of this late, nearly lightless night, the light red dragon's general demeanor mimicked that of everyone else that had been called here, the Artisan's main dwelling having a good share of foreign visitors.

Kneeling by the small, rectangularly shaped basket that he had carved by hand for carrying tools, Nestor turned to the one addressing him, something of far higher value resting in the small structure. "His condition isn't improving." the green dragon confessed, the cloth from his satchel still in the small bowl of water, he reaching in and wringing out, dabbing the small creature in the basket with it again. "This needs to be colder. His fever's gotten higher." Nestor rose, lightly adjusting his green vest. "Stay here with him, Delbin."

"No need to ask." the red skinned painter answered, approaching the former tool box and peering inside. 'Wow.' he thought. 'They were right. He IS small.'

Small was perhaps and understatement. Anyone with eyes could see that he was more than just small, he was underdeveloped. 'So young.' Delbin thought, his lips tightening in growing trepidation the longer he observed. 'So young, and finally hatched. Yet now…'

**Outside**

"...I fear we'll lose him come morning."

It was far from what was wished to be heard, yet Nestor dare not lie. Besides, it wasn't as if he wished for this to be the truth.

Among the five of them, one, large and well built, tan in color and with violet facial hair, and garbed in a kusazuri, epaulettes and several medals detailing battles he's won over the years, was more than eager to make his opinion on this predicament known. "We can't!" he snarled. "We cannot simply allow this to happen! He's the only one out of the batch that's survived thus far! We can't!"

"And what do you suggest?!" another dragon began, this one of a darker complexion of green, plates on his shoulders that were held together by a strap of gold. He was of considerably thinner build than the former, his horns shaped and decorated with metallic spirals, and it was evident that, compared to the warrior with him, his talents were more in the mystic arts than that of physical. "I've gone through and researched every spell and charm I remember, and even now, my magic has only kept the child continuing on in his condition, not improving it!"

"Then try something else!" another roared, far from caring who heard him. While a little more 'portly' in comparison to both of the previous speakers, it was clear that this figure held the same bravado as the skin of blue and wings of purple, he bore a staff of wood that, unlike that of the previous dragon, was more used in line to the axe of the tan warrior (of which he was instructed to leave behind due to the sensitivity of the situation). A necklace of sharpened teeth hung on his neck, a large brown hat atop his head and resting between his horns (of which the magic wielding dragon addressed as a 'lump of filth you call a hat'). "The next eggs won't be laid until next year, and any of them youngins' that haven't up and died have already been taken by those darned thieves!"

Nestor sighed. While each of them were becoming more than a little heated with one another, ultimately, the root cause of it was no different than it was for him. He had been young when it happened, yet he remembered it enough to know how things were when they all were whisked here from their former home. His own father, Astor, was perhaps a better source of information regarding that, seeing as he was one of the main instigators of it all. He had been far younger then, a thousand years younger. Nestor was little more than a hatchling himself, too young to fully comprehend what was happening, let alone who this supposed 'Sorceress' was that had caused them all to be relocated to this previously strange, uncharted world. Even now as an adult, his father divulged little. And what little he could get out of him, the old dragon's voice was far from triumphant. "It's the curse…" he'd mumble, unaware his son heard it all. "That witch...I know it's her fault. How bad of luck we've had building this place up. It's a curse…"

"It's not as if I can just conjure up some means to make the dragoness' product faster!" the green, magical dragon protested. "Fertility spells are one thing, yet the development of a dragon in its egg, let alone before it is delivered, is not a process to be tampered with!"

"Not to mention how sick a lot of them are gettin'." the heavier set, blue dragon added. "My own missus barely made it in delivering the last batch." he turned to Nestor. "Hey, this kid's one of you Artisan's, where's his folks?"

The green carpenter averted his eyes for a moment, air exiting his nostrils and his scaly brow furrowing. "...gone.."

"What?" the warrior questioned. "What do you mean..." he then realized. "Oh…"

"He doesn't even know it." Nestor confessed. "Yet should his condition worsen...it may be that he'll get to meet them soon."

Everyone's faces grew grim, neither the warrior or the accented dragon having any sort of confident back up to the Artisan's statement.

"...perhaps not."

Another voice rang out, its owner having been present then entire time, yet only now, saw fit to speak. Like the other four, he was a dragon, yet compared to the membranous wings the others bore, his were more comparable to that of a bird, bright and vibrant in a shade of violet. His skin did bear more qualities in line with the others, scaled, yet a deep shade of blue. Two pieces of red cloth draped around his neck, his waist trimmed with gold. A necklace of gold with tassels rested on him, and a fastened rope served as a belt, holding a red loincloth around his waist up. Another abnormality in comparison to his other reptilian companions was that, instead of standing, he used his tail to support himself.

"It is usually until a far later time...yet we may need to look outside of ourselves for a solution."

"Honestly," the green skinned magic-skilled dragon sighed. "We don't have time to be deciphering riddles, Lateef."

"And you shan't, Cosmos." the feather winged dragon answered. "I shall say it plainly."

"Then do it!" the warrior bellowed. "Spill it out already!"

"The solution dwells not in your homeland, Titan. It dwells in that of Bruno's."

The portly dragon, Bruno, was puzzled. "Mine?" Lateef nodded. "What's in the swamp that can possibly help us?"

"Oh, heaven forbid." Nestor began. "Don't tell me you're going to make him guzzle swamp water-"

"Goodness no!" Lateef exclaimed. "Truly, do you believe me to be that mad?"

No one dare answer that question.

"I refer to the 'breeding grounds' of the natural inhabitants there."

"Natural inhabitants? You've gotta be clearer than that, because that kid isn't gonna…" Bruno stopped, pondering over Lateef's words. "Wait a minute…" it then hit him. "Of course!" he then turned tail in the opposite direction of the other four.

"And where do you think you're going?!" Titan called out.

"The balloonist!" Bruno called back. "And if you were smart, you'd do the same, blockhead!"

"Blockhead?!"

"No time for that." Cosmos interjected. "We need to to get to the Beast Keepers' domain, on the double!"

"Indeed." Lateef added. "The little one has but short time left." he finally stood on his feet, ready to go off as well. "Wait a moment." he paused, turning to Nestor. "Who is watching over the little one now?"

"I've put Delbin in charge for now." Nestor answered. "I can make it up to him once we get back." with that, he and Lateef followed the others, the green dragon not entirely finished with his statement, yet he dare not utter it. 'If there's anything to make up for, and this isn't just a fool's errand.'

* * *

The cool, crisp air of the night had done its job, his wings now feeling more than ready to be used, at long last.

Finally, after all his waiting and spending half of his life underneath the murky waters of that swamp, the insect was no longer just a nymph feeding on whatever smaller creatures lay beneath the surface! He had just, quite literally, shed away that part of his life, emerging from his old skin as an entirely new creature. One that wasn't limited to just the water, one that held command over the land and air! One that could go and soar any which way he pleased!

This, as his parents told him, was what it felt like to be a dragonfly.

And yet...and yet, gazing down from his perch atop the branch of a tree, the newly re-birthed insect found that, while his want and elation at his transformation hadn't ceased, with it, a small twinge of reality began to settle in.

The world had just become that much bigger. Perhaps a little...too big.

He had flown all this way from the swamp of the Beast Keepers, so why was it only now that he found himself plagued by this? Was it just how drastically different this other dragon dwelling was in comparison? Or maybe it had something to do with the strange, moving balls of white fluff that moved around below, seemingly huddled in groups and feasting on the grassy plains.

He knew not the reason, yet, to his shame, the former nymph found hesitancy and, ugh, fear seeping in. Why though? Why now, before he had a chance to truly explore? It wasn't fair! It wasn't fair at all! It wasn't-

"It's not fair."

Hm?

"It's not fair, for one so young…"

A structure was below him, this one appearing to be crafted of far less mucky and overall haphazard, thrown together materials of the Peace Keepers' swamp. A dragon made his exit out of the hut, light red in color and wearing a vest of light blue with golden trims. Despite the flying reptile's imposing size in comparison to the former nymph, his voice echoed nothing but utter dejection. A small bowl of water was in his clawed hands, he looking back and lightly opening the cloth barrier serving as the 'door'. "I'm just going to get some cool water for you. I'll be back before you know it." he paused, as if realizing that his wording was imply something he didn't mean. Nevertheless, he went on his way, the dragonfly perched up high above looking on and making sure he had left the area.

What in the world was of such great importance, let alone a source of such sadness in that hut?

Well, only one way to find out. And besides, fear of the unknown was the first step in truly earning his coveted wings!

The descent, he'd admit, was a little scary. Just a little though. Gravity still held no power over him, not now that he finally got his wings. That said, he remembered what he was told: '...don't believe that these wings make you invincible. For as you dined on the microscopic creatures under the water, there are those who would surely make a meal out of you. And that is just one amongst many dangers you now have to face.'

Well...one thing was for sure. If he saw a spider somewhere in here, he was NEVER coming back to this place again!

Upon entering the hut through a small, open space between the cloth and door frame, the dragonfly fluttered around, analyzing and observing whatever he could find. They use these as simple objects, he thought? But they were so big! Big enough to fit ten, no twenty, maybe fifty of him inside some of them!

A low moan had nearly caused the insect to leap out of his skin (a feat that he could have performed quite literally), his parallel eyes spotting some large, cubically shaped object stationed in the corner of the room. The source of the noise came from whatever was in there. The source clearly far bigger than he was.

He was about to leave, more than ready to hightail it out of here, and yet...that dragon's words came to him. 'One so young.' he said. Young...was it maybe a...should he maybe see if it was? As if he had momentarily lost control of himself, the insect flew forward, albeit slowly. Should things go wrong, then he could just explore the world above the water another day. Another safer, far better lit day. Yeah. In fact, no night trips. Ever. Those were bad, BAD ideas.

He had arrived. Well...do or die time. He only hoped that it didn't mean the latter for him. He peered over the edge, his already large eyes widening at what he beheld, as well as kicking himself for getting so worked up.

The object held in its confines a tiny dragon of violet that had surely hatched from his egg not too long ago. Perhaps a little too soon, judging by the size. The horns that most of his species possessed were little more than stubs, and his wings were small, webbed appendages stationed on his back. He hadn't even developed his back ridges yet, and his crest was little more than a small ridge on the top of his head.

This was what he had been so afraid of? A runt like him? The insect began to allow himself to release a few nervous laughs, his 'voice' sounding less like actual speech, and more akin to that of a kazoo being blown. It was funny, after all. Funny to be so worked up over such a little-

COUGH!

Hm? Hey, if he was mistaken, the little guy didn't look so good. In fact...oh no. He just realized, the little guy was barely breathing. He looked more than a little sick! He looked as if he could choke at any minute-

'It's not fair…'

Oh.

It all made sense now.

'One so young.'

Oh no. Oh no, this...this was terrible. And...what now? The dragonfly noticed, once again to his growing terror, that the little purple thing was shivering quite intensely!

A small cloth of sorts was inside the basket, certainly big enough to practically form a sack and scoop the poor thing up. Yet at the moment, the insect would make use of it in another way. Flying down and gripping the hem with his front legs, the far smaller flier pulled and pulled, his wings beating so hard that he was certain that they'd come flying right off of him! It was as slow and arduous process, yet eventually, he found his mission a success. The cloth was pulled over the shivering dragon's form, his head being the only portion of him to be exposed.

And yet still, he shivered and trembled.

Oh, this was bad, this was bad! The dragonfly knew nothing about how dragons worked, but he knew that this was bad! He had to do something! Yet what? What could he do? If the little guy was cold then...then he could maybe...that could work. He fluttered up towards the young one's head, landing on the bridge of his small snout. The dragonfly would have to be careful. One wrong move, and even a tiny guy like him could flatten him instantly. He had just gained his wings, had just truly been 'born' in a sense...and here he was, going to risk it all for some little thing that he didn't even know, let alone have any guarantee his efforts would make any sort of difference.

The purple dragon shifted a bit, the dragonfly not moving a muscle. It wasn't enough to dislodge him, yet still, he wasn't taking any chances. Another moan came from the hatchling, the insect moving as fast as he could, all the while make each and every step count, yet he had to freeze upon realizing that, to his horror, the hatchling's eyelids began to flutter.

* * *

Warmer.

That much he was aware of.

He had little sense of much else. Other then that something was wrong with him. Something that made everything hurt. Everything felt hot one moment, then cold the next. He hated the water being dabbed onto his head, shaking each and every time it was done, yet the cooling sensation that came with it made his tolerance somewhat go up. At least until the next dabbing. Yet when he felt the blanket being pulled up onto him, he had believed that one of the bigger things had come back for him. Maybe the green one, or the red one?

What he found, however, even in his sickened state, took him by surprise.

It was small. Smaller than him. Tiny. Tiny and yellow. It had wings, like him, but its wings were different. Four instead of just two. It also had more legs than he did. Six. And, most striking of all the strange little thing's features, it seemed to 'glow'. A light seemed to emit from the small, flying thing's body, and from he could sense, the glow made him feel...warm.

Warm...but, not a 'hot' warm. This...he didn't know what this was. But he liked it.

After seemingly allowing him to study it for a bit more, the thing began to crawl down his nose and to a small, open space in the blanket, the hatchling's eyes following the golden light as it traveled downward, then upward, stopping upon reaching his side, of which was the highest point currently, seeing as he was laying on the other.

He still hurt, and he still had a hard time breathing...but this thing...it seemed, somehow, to be making it not hurt as bad. Had he the capacity, let alone a developed enough brain, he would've questioned as to what the creature was, let alone why it was here. Yet, unfortunately, such things would have to come at a far later time, as drowsiness once again began to set in, the small dragon's eyes slowly shutting, the world around him melting into little more than a black haze.

Even so, the sensation of the glow filled his innermost being.

* * *

"Is that all of them?" Nestor questioned, the other heads of the Dragon clans not far behind, a small swarm of glowing, newly born dragonflies behind them. They had managed to get a dozen or so, yet still, the Artisan questioned whether or not it would be enough.

"This is all we could get to come with us." Titan confessed. "Little things proved to be more trouble than I thought."

"I told you." Cosmos interjected. "Your face would only scare them away." Titan snarled in response.

"Save whatever quarrel you two have for later." Nestor stated, coming in between the two. "Or does your sense of pride matter more than that young one's life?"

Both the Peace Keeper and Magic Crafter grew silent, turning their gazes away from the other.

"I don't mean ta' bring any more bad news…" Bruno piped up. "But ya realize that we can't just stick one of these here critters with the youngin'."

"The bond between Dragon and Dragonfly is one that delves deeper than simple guidance and protection." Lateef agreed. "It is a tie to the other's very soul. They become a part of one another." Nestor grew quiet, the hut still a good bit away, they all having just gotten back from the Beast Makers' swampland. "And it is not a bond where two can simply be forced together. The other must accept and open themselves to their partner, and vice-versa."

"All the more reason to keep moving, right?" Titan interjected. "What are we doing waiting here for then? Let's get these guys to him and let him pick on out!"

They all began on their way again, the newly 'reborn' insects close behind. All of them only following due to the offer of some tasty morsels known as 'butterflies' that could be found in abundance here in these particular lands. Of course, what was one the minds of the dragons luring them with such promise was the hope that at least one, just one amongst them would be the 'one'. He was still so young, far too young to already have a companion such as this. Yet if was the only chance they had...then they could adjust. They would have to. As would he.

Should he still be breathing when they reached him.

* * *

"At last!" Nestor shouted, the five just moments away from reaching the hut, just moments away from reaching the entrance-

"Wait!"

Only for Delbin to be making his way out, all of them nearly barreling right into him.

"Whoa, whoa, where's the fire?" the vest wearing painter questioned, defensively raising his claws up.

"S-Sorry." Nestor apologized. "We just...I'll get to the point, we need to see him."

"I don't think that'll be necessary. Not anymore."

The five leaders' eyes grew wide, their blood running cold. 'No...no!' Delbin began to open his mouth to speak once again, yet he found himself shoved aside by the green skinned carpenter, the Artisan rushing into the hut and to the toolbox, pulling back the blanket to find…

"Nestor?" Titan called out, inviting himself into the hut as well. "Nestor, what happened!? What's going on?!"

"Has he…" Cosmos began, though he couldn't bring himself to finish his statement.

"Oh…" Bruno clasped his hands over his mouth, eyes pricked with developing moisture. "Oh no. Poor little darlin'..."

And Lateef…Lateef bore no reaction.

"Wh-What's up with you?" Titan exclaimed.

"Dry your tears, Bruno. This is not a time for mourning."

"Not a time, not a time for mourning?!" the yellow-skinned Peace Keeper seized the blue dragon by his red sash. "The poor kid's dead, and you DARE tell us, let alone Bruno that this ISN'T a time for mourning?!"

"Put him down, Titan." Nestor suddenly spoke, Titan in turn directing his attention to the Artisan, of whom also appeared to be far less distraught than before. In fact, quite the opposite. He looked outright relieved.

"Nestor? What's going on? A minute ago, you were-"

"Put him down, and see for yourself."

Titan did so, Lateef simply dusting himself off as if he weren't just moments away from potentially receiving bodily harm, and leaned over, his previous dismay fading away instantly at the sight he saw. And soon, as the others joined in, all, save for the Dream Weaver and Artisan, each of them felt nothing short of absolute elation and solace at what was before them.

As they left him, the little, violet dragon was still and silent in the box, yet instead of quite literally being at death's door, it appeared that he was doing no more than sleeping deeply, small breaths and sighs exiting from him. He appeared sickish still, yes, yet it was a far cry from what his condition had previously been. And none of the five need ask as to how such a thing was possible, the reason being nestled atop of the hatchling.

"As I was saying," Delbin said, entering the hut. "Having all those little ones out there won't be necessary." he came over, observing the scene with the others. "This one here took care of everything for us." he reached forward, lightly stroking the insect's head.

"How…" Cosmos began. "How did this one come all the way from your realm to here?"

Bruno chuckled lightly. "Once they get their wings, a good portion of them critters can't wait another moment to use them. And given how tuckered out this one is, I'd say he's been doing a good deal of flying."

"Then...then he's all right?" Nestor questioned, turning to Delbin, then to Lateef. The painter nodded, whilst the Dream Weaver bore a more vocal answer."

"The bond has been formed. This little one and the dragonfly are one with each other now. We can do no more than we already have."

Nestor knelt over the sleeping hatchling, the others unable to see his features, yet it was clear he was attempting to keep himself in order. The usually calm, composed dragon trembled, his claws gripping the edges of the box. Low, hushed, huffs and breathes were heard, as well as...whimpering?

"I say it best we leave him be." Lateef whispered to the others, neither of them arguing with the Dream Weaver on that, the four of them making swift exits. Delbin watched them go and decided to follow, leaving Nestor along with the two small creatures.

It was inevitable, he supposed, lifting himself up somewhat, yet still clutching onto the basket as if his very life was in the balance. Heh, how ironic. Still, even if he sought to prevent it by any means necessary, Nestor knew that tears would be shed this night. How he had come to such a conclusion was beyond him, such instinctual feelings and sensations...those were for the Magic Crafters and Dream Weavers to analyze and account for, not one of his kind. Yet now, indeed, it seemed that this strange, bizarre thought was in itself, a self-fulfilling prophecy. Only, the tears he openly shed were far from the ones he was suspecting.

* * *

The insect stirred, his eyes opening to find a far larger, far more built shape looking down at both him and the small dragon. A small squeak escaped him as he fluttered, knowing that this was a bad idea to even come here. "Hm?" the larger shape murmured, the dragonfly utterly petrified now that the dragon had finally taken notice of him.

"Oh, no. Wait." Nestor pleaded. "It's all-" he paused for a moment, sniffing. "It's all right. No one's going to hurt you."

The dragonfly stayed nearly perfectly still, the only portion of him being his moving wings, yet he was still more than a little wary over this larger winged reptile. But wait a moment. Why was he...was he 'leaking' from his eyes?

"I apologize for the rude awakening." the carpenter softly said. "Yet…" he reached out, the dragonfly backing up for a moment, he in turn drawing his hand back. "I don't know if you even have a name, and yet I…" he paused, looking over to the box. "...and he, owe you more than you probably even know." the dragonfly looked to the small purple dragon, then back to the larger, green one sporting a vest and a sizable jewel attached to the right of his attire. What had he done? All he wanted to do was make the little guy just a bit warmer. He didn't mean to do anything else.

A low moan emitted from the box, both Nestor and the golden dragonfly looking to it.

"I think duty calls for you." the carpenter told the insect, whom in turn, found that, despite not entirely understanding, the dragon's words just seemed to sound...right. "You've done more than enough, so it's best you rest as well. Besides, it seems we have some 'friends' of yours to return to the Beast Makers' swamp."

Finding little reason to protest, the dragonfly made his way to the slumbering hatchling, settling atop of the little one's side once again, finding that, oddly enough, sleep was coming rather easily to him.

* * *

Delbin made his entrance into the hut, the sun just a few hours away from passing over the horizon. He and Nestor, along with the other four that had been up all night, would have to be sure to thank Gavin for his 'special blend' when the blue barista got up. Quite bitter it was, yet it did its job well. Perhaps too well. As even now, it seemed that none of them could get to sleep. Not even Lateef and his meditations seemed to be working, nor Cosmos' conjuring or casting. This brew was even sleep-spell proof!

Still, even with all that, it was agreed that he and the others would take being forced to be awake an extra twenty-four hours to what could've occurred. The little one that had been teetering on the border between life and death was snuggled and wrapped in the blanket set in for him, a faint, yellow glow fading in and out from underneath the cloth.

'You know…' Delbin though, his fingers getting the sudden urge to pick up a brush, as well as bring out his trusty palette. He was feeling...inspired. 'I think I have a concept for my next painting.' The urge to go and collect everything, then come back soon became overwhelming, he HAD to get this moment captured on canvas. There was no other way to relieve himself of this sudden urging. Yet before exiting the hut to gather the necessary materials, the painter turned back for one last glance at the slumbering hatchling and his newfound companion.

'And…' Delbin pondered, his claw rest on his chin. 'I believe I even have a name for it too.' a small smile traced his lips. 'Little Spark...has a nice ring to it.'


End file.
